hall depart or not at all. I have men enough at
Condillac to see my orders carried out, no matter what they be.

"You may tell yourself that this fellow will return to help you. Perhaps
he will; but when he does, it will be too late so far as you shall be
concerned."

Terrified by that threat, Valerie had blenched, and had felt her spirit
deserting her.

"And if I comply, madame?" she had asked. "If I do as you wish, if I
tell this gentleman that I no longer desire to go to Paris--what then?"

The Dowager's manner had become more affectionate. She had patted the
shrinking girl upon the shoulder. "In that case, Valerie, you shall
suffer no constraint; you shall continue here as you have done."

"And has there been no constraint hitherto?" had been the girl's
indignant rejoinder.

"Hardly, child," the Dowager had returned. "We have sought to guide you
to a wise choice--no more than that. Nor shall we do more hereafter if
you do my pleasure now and give this Monsieur de Garnache the answer
that I bid you. But if you fail me, remember--you marry Marius before
nightfall."

She had not waited for the girl to promise her compliance. She was too
clever a woman to show anxiety on that score. She left her with that
threat vibrating in her mind, confident that she would scare the girl
into obedience by the very assurance she exhibited that Valerie would
not dare to disobey.

But now, at the sound of that chill voice, at the sight of that calm,
resolved countenance, madame was regretting that she had not stayed
to receive the girl's promise before she made so very sure of her
pliability.

She glanced anxiously at Garnache. His eyes were upon the girl. He was
remarking the slender, supple figure, moderately tall and looking taller
in its black gown of mourning; the oval face, a trifle pale now from the
agitation that stirred her, with its fine level brows, its clear,
hazel eyes, and its crown of lustrous brown hair rolled back under the
daintiest of white coifs. His glance dwelt appreciatively on the slender
nose, with its delicate nostrils, the charming line of mouth and chin,
the dazzling whiteness of her skin, conspicuous not only in neck and
face but in the long, slender hands that were clasped before her.

These signs of breeding, everywhere proclaimed, left him content that
here was no imposture; the girl before him was, indeed, Valerie de La
Vauvraye.

At madame's invitation she came forward. Marius hastened to